[MiSTied] Darkest Days Part 1
Claye Hodge
alt.startrek.creative. As usual.. There are 27 parts but don't worry
I'll try to do it like the Fugitive Alien films, or the Master Ninja films.
But of course you know the usual. If you like the MiSTing or wish to give
me any comments, e-mail me at crh...@delphi.com Enjoy!
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[Intro.]
1...2...3...4...5...6...7...
[SOL]
[Crow is reading Tigerbot. Tom, wearing pants WALKS on screen, and kicks
Crow in the rear.]
CROW: OW! Hey Tom! Why did you kick.. me??? WHERE'S YOUR HOVERSKIRT??
TOM:[walking back and forth.] Hehehe.. Sorry Crow, I never had a chance to
kick you when I put that Kick Me sign on you, until now. Mike was able
to give me some legs. How do you like them??
[Mike walks in.]
MIKE:[to Crow.] Well, actually I used your spare legs.
[Tom is still walking around.]
CROW: Oh.. HEY!! Those are my sensible pants!!
MIKE: I had to use something to cover them.. since they looked mangled a bit.
CROW: Well of course they were mangled! I only have one spare of legs, and
those were the ones that the "other-guy" used as a shish-kabob and
now they are no longer usable.
MIKE: They seem alright to me.
TOM: [offscreen.] WOOHOO!!! Don't listen to him, Mike. He's just jealous.
CROW: But Mike, they were put into the fire. They ought to be malfunctioning.
[Tom comes back on screen.]
TOM: Woah! Hehe.. Gotta get used to these.. [Tom's starting to lose control
of his legs.] Woops! [Bounces into Mike.] Oops! Sorry, Mike!
MIKE: I see what you mean Crow.
TOM: [losing control of his legs completely.] YIKES! MIKE! CROW! JANE! STOP
THIS CRAZY THIIIIING!!!! [Tom hits Crow. Crow falls down.] SORRY CROW!!
MIKE: I'll save ya Tom! [Jumps over desk trying to catch Tom.]
[Commercials.]
[SOL]
[Tom (Head and torso connected only.)is laying on the desk. His hoverskirt
and several other pieces of him are scattered around him on the desk. Mike
is working on him. Crow raises up from behind the desk, wearing a bandage
on his head.]
CROW:[in pain.] OooOOoohhh... Mike, tell me you're not trying something
else, are you??
MIKE: No. I'm puting Servo's hoverskirt back on. [Mads light flashes.] Oh
great, Lois and Clark are calling. [Mike taps Mads light.]
[D13]
DR.F: Ahh Mitch, I see you've learned that you shouldn't mess with the
forces of nature. I do it regularly, but that's okay because I'm
smarter than you. Hahaha.. Frank? Are you ready yet?
FRANK:[off-screen.] Yes.
DR.F: I've been busy this week, so I let Frank come up with this week's
invention. [Frank comes on screen with a cube shaped object, which
has a microphone attached to it.. and the word "Hypnotizer" on it.]
Take it away, Frank. [Dr F. walks off screen.]
FRANK: Hi guys.. My invention is based on the premise of those commercials
you see on TV.. You know, the ones that say you can learn how to
Hypnotize, with these audio tapes if you call now. Well, I asked
myself, "Why learn HOW to hypnotize, when the Hypnotizer can do it
for me." All I have to do is speak into the microphone and say
something like "Bark like a dog." Here, I'll show you. [Holds the
microphone up to his face.] *Tom Servo... Bark like a Dog.*
[SOL]
TOM: RUFF! RUFF! RUFF! WAH!! It worked!
[D13]
[Frank shuts the door to the umbilicus.]
FRANK: Yeah, and I've sent you a copy to play around with. What do you
think?
[SOL]
[The Hypnotizer is in front of them on the desk.]
TOM:[whispers.] Oh I hope this works!!
MIKE:[Holds microphone up to his face.] *FRANK.. Bring the Satelite back
down to Earth. Push the buttons to make the satelite come back to
Earth.* hehehe!
[D13]
[Frank is in a trance.]
FRANK: Bring.. the satelite.. back... down to.. Earth... [Frank gets ready
to type something on the keyboard. Dr. F comes back on screen.]
DR.F: Frank?? [looks at Frank.] Are you okay Frank? [Dr.F looks at Frank's
invention and then the screen.] FRANK! NO! [pushes Frank off screen.]
VERY FUNNY. JUST FOR THAT.. [peers closer at screen.] What are you
doing???
[SOL]
MIKE: *Dr. Forrester, you will act like a chicken.*
BOTS: Hehehe!!!
[D13]
DR.F: Very Amusing guys, luckily I'm immune *CLUCK* to Hypno.. tism. *CLUCK*
[SOL]
[Mike and the bots are laughing.]
[D13]
DR.F: DOH! Just for that *CLUCK*. I'm sending *CLUCK* you an *CLUCK* eight
*CLUCK* part fanfic, from *CLUCK* those people at *CLUCK* alt.
startrek.creative. *COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO!!!* Chew before swallowing!
*CLUCK*. [Dr.F pushes the button and struts off screen. Frank is still
wandering around in a trance.]
[SOL]
ALL: HAHAHAHA!!! OH WE'VE GOT POST SIGN!!!!!!!!!
7...6...5...4...3...2...1...
[Mike and the bots enter the theater. Mike puts Tom in his seat.]
MIKE: Haha.. we oughta try that again.
TOM: Yeah.
>
>
> Welcome,
TOM: What?? No header???
MIKE: I guess Dr. Forrester got this by E-mail.
>
> This is the very first of many stories I hope to write on this
CROW: And hopefully, the very LAST.
>newsgroup. When I first started I wrote in 6000 to 8000 bit parts, so
TOM: 8000 PARTS??? AAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!
>this story is turning out to be very long. I want you to know this was my
>mistake and any inconviences this causes
CROW: You can kill me. I won't mind.
> for anyone who may be willing
>to read this, I am truly sorry.
> Due to time and the size of each part, I have decided to turn it
>out in three (3) "books" of eight (8) part sets.
MIKE: Of pure terror!
> Each "book" is divided
>into chapters within its' eight parts. Please excuse any misspellings and
>errors, most are due to time constraints. And please remember, this is
>the first, so bare with me. I hope this is as much fun for you to read
TOM: I doubt it.
>as it was fun for me to write. Expect surprises.
>
CROW: The only surprise I'm expecting is actually seeing the ending of this
story.
> E-Mail me with any thoughts on the story. All will be replied to.
MIKE: Except hate mail, flames, and mail bombs.
>
> Enjoy. And Thanks.
TOM: OH, would you just BITE ME and get on WITH IT!!
>
> Sean Corbett 11/4/94
MIKE: Remember that name, and remember it well.
>
>
>**************************************************************************
TOM: Oh my lucky stars!
>
>
> STAR TREK : DARKEST DAYS
CROW: Oh, it's about us reading this fanfic!
>
> written by Sean Corbett
TOM: Screenplay by Sean Corbett, produced by Sean Corbett, and directed by
Sean Corbe...
MIKE: That's enough, Tom.
>
> ************ ************** ************ **************
CROW: There's the big dipper.
MIKE: I see Draco.
TOM: There's the constellation Taurus.
CROW: And below is the constell...
TOM: Crow, don't.
>
>
> Historians Note:
> The events that take place in this story are
MIKE: Fictional.
> to take place one month after the incedent at
> Virdian III. (See Generations.)
TOM: Oh SURE.. and you go see Monster A Go-Go.
>
> ***** ***** ****
CROW: I suppose you could call this padding.
>
>
>
> PROLOGUE
>
>
>
> The rain continued to fall on the remains of the four century old
>house, burnt to the ground only a month before. Former Captain of the
>starship Enterprise, Jean-Luc Picard, stood at what would had been the
MIKE: His easy recliner.
>front doorway, looking at the wreckage,
TOM: What wreckage?? I thought this was a fire.
> knowing his entire family had
>perished in it. He was the last of the Picards, a family knee deep in
CROW: Mud?
>costume and culture, and tradition. All of what the millenia old family
>had been now rested on the shoulders of one man.
TOM: Actually, they're resting under his feet. Get it?? Ashes??
> For the thirtieth day, Picard had come to pay homeage, to grieve,
MIKE: And to get this week's lottery tickets.
>to look on in disbelief at the fate of his only living relatives. The
>rain that had fallen had soaked the ground, letting the ashes of the
>wooden home swell and give off a musty odor.
CROW: I think a little Old Spice would do the trick.
> Standing beside the once
>great shipship
TOM: Shipship?? What's a shipship?
MIKE: She said to excuse the misspellings, Tom.
> commander, was the only person to survive the fire; the
>housekeeper, Elizabeth. She had suffered only a minor burn on his arm,
TOM: Poor fella, I wonder who gave him the name of Elizabeth.
MIKE: Tom.
>trying to help Picards' own brother out of the house, but she just wasn't
>strong enough. He had died, and Picard knew that she had at least tried.
CROW: But had failed miserably.
TOM: I thought she was a guy??
MIKE: Quit it, Tom.
> He turned away, looking down the worn dirt road, hoping that
>someone would come, perhaps to rescue him from this miserable depression
CROW: Or this horrible post. Either would be fine.
>he had found himself wallowing in. But no one came, not a single person
>had shown up at his vineyard in more than a month. I don't belong here,
>he thought, I need to get out of here, before it gets to me.
MIKE: Roomitism.
> It was too late, it had already gotten to him.
> An hour later, the rain had all but stopped and the sun shined
TOM: So in other words.. The rain was continuing to pour.
>high over the mountains that kept this valley secure for thousands of
>years. Picard had looked up and wondered when the call would come, the
CROW: He then remembered that he hadn't paid the phone company.
>call for a new command. He and his command crew had been given "extended
>shoere leave" which meant that no command was ready for them. The rest of
MIKE: I call that, retirement.
>the crew, the ones who were well enough after the crash, had all been
>reassigned to other vessels.
TOM: The rest were in traction.
> Unlike the last few days, Picard had not found himself picking
>through the rubble for anything that may possibly have any value to him,
>anything sentimental.
CROW: Anything he could hock to buy that gold watch he had been wanting.
> Today he walked the length of his yard, looking at
>the vines, hoping that he would be able to rebuild someday on what had
>fallen. He noticed the sun had dissappeared, looking up, hoping that no
>more rain was coming, he saw a shuttle glide down from the heavens, land
MIKE: And make a fiery crash landing on the ground.
>near what had been the front yard, and a young officer emerge.
> It's about time, he thought.
TOM:[Picard.] It's been weeks since I sent in that application for a Gold
Card.
> The young cadet, it seemed, walked hurried over to Picard, who had
>started his way back to the house. A house that no long lived.
MIKE: But the Shorts lived there once in a while, they're a nice family.
TOM: HEY, I thought you said no spelling jokes.
> From the distance, he could hear the man say, "Captain Jean-Luc
>Picard? Priority One Message form 'Fleet Command." Now that was something
CROW: He had been waiting for this form.
MIKE: Don't YOU start.
CROW: If you can make spelling jokes... So can we.
>he hadn't expected. Priority One, he thought, what in god's name would
>they do that for.
> When they were finally face to face, "Sir, Admiral Necheyev wishes
>you to return to the City immediately. There seems to be a problem,
>Captain. ".
CROW:[Picard.] Problem?
TOM:[Cadet.] Yes.. You're standing on my foot.
> Picard took the cue, "Delta Problem?".
MIKE: Delta Burke??
> "Aye, sir,"the boy said, "It is definitely a ... Delta Problem."
>He could see Picard turn pale, so pale he looked like the android. I
TOM: What android?
>should have asked what a 'Delta Problem' is when I was back at
MIKE: Ahh yes.. What IS a Delta Problem??
CROW: I would like to know what this DELTA PROBLEM is.
MIKE: Please enlighten us on this Delta Problem.
CROW: Tell me more about this DELTA problem.
TOM: Folks, that was the "Delta Problem" sketch.
>headquarters, the young officer said.
> "Very good, Ensign. Let me get my things, and we can leave."
>
CROW:[Picard.] Hmm.. let's see... I'll need my electric shaver, my tooth-
brush, and don't let me forget my bunny slippers.
>
>
> CHAPTER ONE
TOM: We've only gotten to Chapter One???
>
>
>
> "Two hundred?" Sisko exclaimed, he wanted to strangle the little
>bastard, "Where exactly do you think you're going to put two hundred
>cases of that Klingon goo?"
CROW: Well, I personally would like to put them up your...
MIKE: CROW!
TOM: Deep Space Nine??? I thought this was a Next Generation fanfic???
> Quark thought he had made one of the best deals of the year, he
>thought wrong,
CROW: I thought I had a good deal, especially when the price was only a
nickel.
> "I...uh...I was hoping to store them down where the mining
>equipment used to be, Commander."
> " Hmph, I can tell him where to put that crap," the Constable
CROW: Hahaha! Very funny!
MIKE: Oh BROTHER.
>said from his place on the uppermost level of Ops, Deep Space Nine. He
>was in a good mood this morning, and it seemed everyone know knew.
TOM: Hey Crow, Do you know Knew???
CROW: No, but I know Known. He's a good friend.
MIKE: You guys won't listen to me, will ya??
BOTS: No.
> "What if it spoils?" Sisko asked.
CROW: It won't spoil. It'll just smell bad.
> "Qau'Kla doesn't spoil, in fact it never goes bad." Quark said,
>"So how about it commander?"
> "Fine, fine..." Sisko said, heading back to his office, the doors
>swooshed open,"If I smell one bad thing down there, that Qau'Kla is
>getting beamed out."
MIKE: If you smell, can I beam you out??
> "Oh, thank you, Commander." Quark said, thankful that he didn't
>have to offer any latinum for the storage of the food.
> The doors closed behind Sisko, he walked around the edge of his
>desk and flopped down into his chair.
CROW: Snapping his spinal cord in the process.
> A little peace and quiet, he
>thought, will do me a little good.
> The chime of the office door woke Ben Sisko from the light sleep
>he was moving into, Kira stood in the door, hands behind her back, "What
>is it, Major?"
TOM: He was tired after that long run-on sentence.
> She hestitated at first, then took a step forward, "Commander,
>there is a Priority Two message on a secure subspace channel from
>StarBase 312." He knew why she hestitated,
TOM: Hestitated??? [Mike punches Tom.] OW!
> she hated those damned secret
>messages StarFleet liked to send.
> "Pipe in here," Sisko said. Kira turned on her heels and
>signaled to someone in Ops to make the proper contection. The door
TOM: Contec.. [Mike clears his throat.] Uh... hehehe.. nevermind.
>closed. On the viewscreen beside Sisko's desk, on the wall, appeared the
CROW: His desk is on the wall???
>symbol of the Federation on a blue background. The screen resolved into
>the image of an Andorian Admiral. Damn, Sisko thought, I can never
MIKE: Get used to that.
>remember his name. "Admiral, what can I do for you?"
> The blue creature frowned, or at least tried to, "That's Admiral
>T'Welz to you, Commander Sisko," he said through the slit that they
>called a mouth.
> "Yes, Sir." He was steaming,
TOM: Through the little holes that they called pores.
> never liked him anyway.
> "Commander, I wanted to inform you that StarFleet intellegence
>indicates that the Borg have made an offensive move against the Romulan
CROW: The Borg are leading two to one, in the fourth quarter with five
minutes left in the game.
>Star Empire." the antennae on his head moving in every which way. "We
TOM:[Andorian.] WOW! I can actually get cable with this!
>also feel that they have made a move against the Dominion in the Gamma
>Quadrant."
> "Understood, Admiral." SIsko said. My god, he thought, the Borg
>making two moves at once. This isn't good.
> "You are ordered to beef up security on the station and begin
>battle drills with your starship...completely precautionary, Commander,"
>the Andorian said, his dull blue skin looked marked with the scares of
>some Andorian disease.
MIKE: Either that or he had a bad rash.
> "Understood, sir"
> "Admiral T'Welz, StarBase 312, Out." and the screen reverted
TOM: Maybe he should be called Admiral NOT T'Welz. Hehehe..
>back to the Federation symbol and blue background.
> Damn, he thought, damn.
CROW: I'm NEVER gonna get used to that.
>
>
>
> [END PART I]
> [GOTO PART II]
MIKE: Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
CROW: Is All of this padding REALLY neccessary??
>
>
[Commercials.]
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[continued in part II.]
Claye Hodge
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-------------Right below Taurus, the Bull---------------
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